


The Long and Short of It

by MellytheHun



Series: Labor of Love [1]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff, Awkward Romance, Comedy, Darth Tantrum and his Evil Space Ginger, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emperor Hux, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Romance, Falling In Love, Family, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Father-Daughter Relationship, Fatherhood, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Knight Kylo Ren, Kylux Big Bang, Kylux Big Bang 2017, M/M, Mutual Pining, POV Alternating, Pining, Romance, Unreliable Narrator, switching POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2019-01-28 05:31:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12599280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MellytheHun/pseuds/MellytheHun
Summary: For the Kylux Big Bang 2017; Hux has a proposition for Kylo and Kylo doesn't gently fall into love as much as he trips, stumbles and goes crashing headlong into it.Artwork done by the lovely zaera-d! <3





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hux is, in essence, an unreliable narrator. He doesn't mean to be, but you may see with the developments of the story that he leaves out details. He doesn't do this purposefully, he just doesn't assign those details as much significance as he should have.

The Rebels are always a problem, but these four in particular have been giving Hux a hard time recently.

They’re honestly animals – the whole lot of them – no respect or appreciation for order or authority. Can’t just accept defeat with dignified grace. It’s pitiful.

This chapter of galactic history belongs to the Order and to Emperor Hux now – he’d appreciate it if they’d just surrender and stop giving him tension migraines, blowing things up every which way and breaking undesirables out of their specialized camps. Hux has a good measure patience, always has. These four Rebels, though, have worn it very thin. Very thin, indeed.

Now that he’s got them in his grasp, cuffed and otherwise bound in his throne room, at his rare mercy, he’s inclined to send them straight to their deaths, but he needs whatever information they’re good for and so he hesitates when one of his guards asks what to do with the captives. He'd love to wave his gloved hand tell the guard, 'kill them however you like, just clean up whatever mess you make,' and watch frigidly as they're escorted away from him. 

He loves watching people walk the proverbial plank. Fascinating, the emotions that play over someone's face when they're headed to the gallows. 

He stares down at the captive Rebels being held by uniformed Order Officers, all of them looking beaten down and bone-tired - tired in that way that sleep can never fix - that time cannot even fix. Wrung minds and worn bodies only active and running because dark caf and waking nightmares keep sleep very barely out of reach. Hux used to know that exhaustion – the kind that came with great sacrifice, constant discomfort, ever-changing stimuli and no certainty of rest or compensation to come.

Disgruntled and put off at the memory of his own times of weakness, Hux looks to the guard that’s asked him what to do with the lot and he says from his great throne with a flippant hand, “get me Ren. I know what I ultimately want to do with these new prisoners, but I need him to drain them of information before I make any other decisions.”

“Uhm,” the guard hovers strangely, “I apologize, your highness, but the Knight Kylo Ren is not available at this time.”

Hux’s eyes are serrated daggers when he turns them onto the unwitting man next to him.

Not that Hux ever takes well to his authority being questioned, but in front of Rebels? Anything other than a “ _yes, sir_ ,” is wholly unacceptable.

“Is he off-planet?” Hux asks, knowing the answer.

“No, sir, but he –”

“No, I know he’s not, because he would have told me so. Is he not within the mansion?”

“Er - no, he is present in the mansion, your majesty, but he –”

“And last I checked, I was _Emperor_. Is that not still true?”

“It – it is, I –”

“So - if we were to break this down as a fun little thought exercise - your _Emperor_ just gave you an _order_. An order - you’re familiar with those. They’re one of those things you _do without question_. That’s supposed to be one of the perks of your line of public servitude, is it not? That you don’t have to _think_ for yourself, you just do as you’re told without having to put the hamster in the wheel and get everything moving up there all on your own?” Hux asks, gesticulating towards his head, where the hamster is presumably located, “ _Look_ at me - you could not possibly have it easier, you realize. You literally do not have to _think_. You just have to operate that sad excuse for a body when and how I tell you to. _No_ thinking is involved. You’re on a constant vacation, that is incredible. You know, I have to ask - what is it like _not_ being me? So vacant... it must be so relaxing, such low-maintenance. I _almost_ envy you. Now, I consider myself a patient man, but if by the end of this tirade, you are still standing there _gaping_ at me like some kind of miserable fish, I will _end_ you here and now and find someone actually _competent_ enough to not question me when I give them a simple order and _get my Knight_ when _told_ to do so. _Now_.”

The man, flustered, emasculated and nervous, nods and flees.

Hux sighs dramatically, put-upon and almost wanting to apologize to the Rebels for the delay – it’d be ridiculous to do that, so he won’t, but the impulse is there.

He’s tyrannical, not discourteous.

When Ren actually does appear before him, Hux understands what the guard had been trying to tell him and he finds himself a bit flustered.

Ren and one of the other Knights are standing by the throne; Ren has a young girl in the loop of his arm, hanging onto his robes and balancing on his hip, looking around the throne room with bright blue eyes. Meanwhile, Ren looks far too pleased with himself, hip cocked to help support the girl and smirk very, very satisfied, eyes hooded in this innately sarcastic way, narrowed down his nose at Hux.

Hux scowls back at him and it only widens Ren’s smile.

Hux shifts his eyes to the girl, never actually having seen her in his throne room before – it’s a little disarming. He’s having a flash flood of identity confusion, seeing her and not knowing which role he’s meant more to be in the face of her at his throne.

“Desda,” Hux greets in surprise.

“Da,” Desda replies, reaching out for him with both arms.

More than a bit embarrassed, Hux takes her from Ren’s arm and allows her to sit on his lap. He looks up at Ren and Ren stares down at him, crossing his arms over his chest with a quirked, expectant brow. His robes are much more regal nowadays – Hux has seen to it to adorn all the Knights with shining golds, deep red emblems and clean, strong, ebony cloaks and armor.

Ren has all the best of those, though, of course.

Ren is _his_ Knight, after all.

“What couldn’t wait until I put her down for a nap?”

A bit of red fills up Hux’s cheeks and he looks at Desda’s sleepy, but happy face. He holds her tiny hand in his and answers Ren and Desda softly, “my apologies. I suppose I’d lost track of time. Didn’t know what time of day it was for you. I’m sorry to have interrupted your schedule, Desda, dear.”

Ren’s smile gentles because he can never help himself when Hux is sweet with Desda and Hux knows that.

Dead is wearing an emblem of the Order across her back and her red curls are shiny and cork-screwed, bouncing as she adjusts herself on Hux’s leg. She looks up to Hux and assures him, “it’s okay, da. I like the throne room. It’s pretty.”

“ _Da_?" one of the Rebels exclaims in dismay, "Have you _procreated_ , you beast?!”

Hux scowls at the Rebel that had the gall to insult him like that in front of his daughter. Instead of ordering Ren to behead the Rebel immediately (something that has occurred in the throne room before and is bound to happen again; Ren is always more than eager to comply), he cools his features, glances at Ren – Ren looks about ready to kill the Rebel where they stand as it is – and then he looks to Desda again.

“Princess, do you think your da is beastly?”

“No!” Desda protests, tugging on his already tight, white uniform, “Da loves me and carries me when I’m tired.”

“Not that your opinion mattered in the first place, but it has been officially outranked by the princess, it would seem,” Hux tells the Rebel haughtily.

“You are sick and twisted!” the Rebel spits, “What poor creature would subject themselves to giving life to whatever demonic spawn your genes offer!?”

“My genes are impeccable, I’ll have you know,” Hux responds coolly, “Good health, patient temperaments and massive intellect run in my bloodline. And, frankly, I’m getting tired of your Rebel tongue slinging insults at my family. I should warn you that you don’t _need_ a tongue for the type of interrogations my Knight performs and I’m not in the least opposed to cutting it out and relieving you of those ill manners.”

Without looking to Ren this time, Hux meets Desda’s eyes and engages her kindly, “sweetheart, da isn’t sure what to do with these Rebels. Maybe you can help? They’ve been causing lots of trouble in morale among the troops and they’ve destroyed, collectively, four of your da’s work camps. Should I kill them now or later?”

Desda seems to consider this closely – she looks at the Rebels being held by the guards, she tilts her head and asks, “what if they have important secrets, though?”

Hux’s eyes positively glitter, his smile genuine and – while disarming to Ren, absolutely distressing to the Rebels that witness it.

“Oh, Desda, you make your da so proud,” he tells her, lifting her and kissing her nose.

She smiles back at him and touches his face with both hands, poking and prodding the way she often likes doing for some inexplicable reason. A few pleasant, silent moments pass before Hux orders the guards without turning to them, “well, you heard the princess. She’s assigned some value to their lives yet, so lock them up in the interrogation cells. Ren will get to them shortly.”

Before anything happens, Desda points to one of the Rebels and tattles loudly, “that one has the most secrets! Their aura is yellow and shiny! They’re scared you’re gonna find them out.”

Looking nonplussed, Hux glances up at Ren and says, “well, half the work is done for you, it seems. Isn’t that how the saying goes; knowing is half the battle? Good thing I didn’t have you kill them on sight. Secrets, Ren. Are you taking notes? Desda has made an important claim.”

Nodding and trying his best not to smile at the friendly banter, Ren waves the guards off to relieve them; the guards follow Hux’s order while the Rebels thrash and claw, cursing and shouting until they’re out of sight and out of earshot.

Ren kneels down, a hand on Hux’s decorated shoulder and another on Desda’s head.

“It’s still nap-time,” Ren reminds them.

“Do I _have_ to go to bed, da?” Desda asks Hux.

“Yes, darling, I’m afraid so,” Hux breaks to her softly, “I’m envious of you – you know, us grown-ups don’t get designated nap-times. And, frankly, I think we’re the ones more in need of them.”

“You’re silly, da,” Desda smiles.

“I’ll have you know I’ve not been silly once in my life,” Hux informs her with faux severity, “Not a single time in my entire life. Truly.”

“Yes!" she giggles, "Yes, you are! Yes, you’re being silly right now!”

“Not at all, and I take offense at the insinuation, Desda - I’m being entirely serious – my life has been devoid of shenanigans, silliness and any form of tomfoolery.”

“Da!” Desda laughs at Ren, pleading for his assistance, “Tell him! Tell him he’s silly!”

“Silliest man I’ve ever met,” Ren agrees.

As Desda laughs, jovial and carefree, Hux gives Ren a semi-smile and mutters, “how dare you.”

They both entertain Desda for a while, never really wanting to be parted from her and she basks in the attention.

At times, Hux is sickened by how domesticated they’ve all become, but then he’ll lead his armies out to battle or kill a man for insulting him and he’ll feel back to himself, in a way.

After spending more time with Desda, Hux sends Ren off to take care of the interrogations, promising to put Desda down for her nap in his stead. Ren doesn’t put up too much of an argument – he’s not as stern and unfeeling as he used to be. He’s much more considerate these days.

Ren tells Hux that he’ll finish what he started, that he doesn’t mind delaying the interrogations for another twenty or thirty minutes, he even worried after Hux’s potential work being effected by the delay of putting Desda to bed.

It’s thoughtful.

Assuring Ren that he had no schedule for the rest of the day, Hux stood with Desda in his gentle, secure hold and touched Ren’s arm in a show of gratitude for his thoughtfulness.

It took a while to figure out, but Ren responds best to physical affirmations. He’s a very tactile person and Hux is… not.

It took him time to acclimate to Ren’s want for physical touch, he is very certainly touch-starved and in want for touch and Hux is a sharp man, but still - it took him a while to figure out that his _personal_ touch was actually, acutely desired. Hux was always a touch-starved person as well, but it didn’t make him hungry for touch the way it did to Ren – it made him wary of it. 

He supposes one can only grow into one or the other when they’re so deprived of intimacy - even friendly touches; one can crave it like a high they’ve never known or one can become paranoid at just the thought of it. Hux has never known someone to live in the in-between of those. Then again, he doesn’t think he’s known many well-adjusted humans.

It took them, Hux and Ren, quite a while, really, to grow used to each other the way they are now and it certainly didn’t start with touch.

Really, as Hux remembers it, the only reason they consciously decided to make efforts towards tolerating one another in the first place was mutiny and treason.

Hardly a hand-holding business.

 

* * *

 

_It had been Ren’s idea to band together against Snoke._

_More than that, it had been a sudden shift in loyalty - one Hux hardly understood. He could only feel Ren’s desperation emanating off him like visible waves, crashing into him, making him reel._

_“_ ** _He_ ** _has used me, Hux,” Ren had said through gritted teeth, “He’s used me my entire life – before I was even born. I_ **_never_ ** _had a choice – not in any of this. I’m not – not even a_ **_person_** _. I’m just a product. I’m whatever he groomed me to be and my pride might get in the way sometimes, but I know my limitations enough. I know I need your help in this.”_

_The way Ren’s voice had gone sort of vulnerable and quiet at the end pulled Hux’s attention from where it had been plastered on Ren’s chest. Ben's chest was strong, but shaky with exhales and Hux had been curious about it, but then Ren's voice had done that thing and his attention was divided._

_He stared at Ren, the both of them hidden away in a corner of Hux’s quarters, never before having stood so close to one another._

_Hux understood they were conspiring and all, but he really didn’t see why Ren had to box him into a corner and stand so close. Hux takes the responsibility of guarding his personal space very, very seriously and in any other circumstances, he might have pushed Ren back and shouted at him for getting so close._

_There were things to learn, though, in being so close to Ren for the first time and despite any discomforts, Hux was always eager to know more – about Ren, about anyone, about the galaxy and universe and all it contained. He had always been an academic and he is a tactician to the very end - the more he knows, the safer he feels. And there was data to be collected from his new proximity. Standing so close to Ren had given him an opportunity to see Ren differently and he welcomed the opportunity rather than shutting down and out._

_He had once predicted that Ren would smell like steel and maybe with the addition of something dirtier – not rust, but something animal, unkempt and unclean. He was wrong, though._

_With Ren standing so close for the first time in the five standard years he’d known the man, he was finally able to log away what scents came off Ren._

_There was mint – not strong and not artificial – it was organic, gentler to the senses for that reason, as though he personally handled the herb and it stuck to his skin. There was a very, very pleasant scent coming off Ren’s exposed neck – it was aftershave or cologne and it was masculine and a little romantic. He wondered who in the stars would purchase Kylo Ren cologne – the thought of Ren getting it for himself seemed unlikely and borderline ridiculous._

_Then there was this dark wine smell that wafted from the curtains of Ren’s hair. That didn’t smell artificial either – Hux knew the smell of a shampoo or body wash, as it usually bothered his nose. He was keen about these things from his years in Special Forces - sometimes the smell of a particular plant, drink or food could save one’s life and knowing the difference between a naturally occurring scent and an artificial one can tip you off to someone spying from close behind._

_Based on the distance he’d kept for all the past years, Hux assumed Ren was similarly trained to know those differences. It’s probably why Ren kept a certain distance from everyone - so they’d not know his particular scent. But Hux did know it, now, and Ren smelled clean, masculine, alluring and of mint and wine – not at all what Hux had expected._

_He also used to think Ren’s eyes were black, but he could see then that Ren’s eyes had a multitude of colors in their irises – there were olive colors, specks of amber in the rings of his iris and though the color was very near black, his eyes were just an intensely dark brown. These findings made Ren seem more fallible, more understandable, more human – confirmed brown eyes. Brown eyes with some olive, some amber and his lashes were very long and thick too._

_The curvatures of his face used to seem asymmetrical and bizarre to Hux, but upon closer inspection, his bone structure was actually quite beautiful. High cheekbones, a strong brow, a defined jaw and chin, full lips and Hux had debated for several years whether or not Ren’s nose was an ugly little thing or not._

_It was not, Hux decided. It was not ugly. A little odd, granted, but still, unique and interesting in its own way - it completed this image of him, gave Ren such an iconic and recognizable profile and up close, Ren was really rather handsome._

_There was nothing to do with that information – nothing to do with what Hux had learned from standing so close to Ren, but he’d learned it all the same. He didn’t care to forget it, either._

_While he had Ren there, he thought he could make Ren beg and plead for his assistance, make Ren grovel, get down on his knees, make him pay for all the embarrassments he’s caused Hux over the years. It would be what Ren deserved and it would appease some resentful and scornful fraction of Hux’s soul._

_That was extremely greedy, though and Ren had come to him asking for help. Contrary to popular belief, Hux didn’t consider himself entirely self-serving_ **_all_ ** _the time._

_Most of the time, certainly, but not always._

_He wouldn’t be this time either._

_Instead of taking advantage of Ren, Hux nodded once and replied, “for the record, you’ve done nothing to deserve it, but I’ll help you.”_

_Ren had shut his eyes, his shoulders slacking minutely in what seemed like gratitude and relaxation, “thank you, Hux. Thank you.”_


	2. Chapter 2

“Da?”

“Yes, darling?”

“Are you and da happy?”

“Very much so,” Hux tells her confidently, walking through his grand halls to what he has designed to be her opulent and luxurious bedroom, “How could we ever be unhappy when we’ve you to cherish?”

Desda would usually giggle or smile at a compliment like that, but she doesn’t this time, which worries Hux. She looks up at Hux very solemnly and continues, “I’ve only ever seen you hug da once, even though you hug me all the time. And I get kisses, but da doesn’t get kisses. Are you mad at him?”

“On any given day, at any given time, dear, you can assume I’m mad at da for something.”

“ _Da_ ,” Desda emphasizes, pleading for her case to be taken seriously.

He sighs, unsure of how to explain this to her.

He knows what occasion of hugging Ren she remembers, though – little to the public’s knowledge, that wasn’t the first time he and Ren had touched so informally. He blushes a little at just the remembrance of it - he really does guard his personal space strictly and it’s embarrassing for even his daughter to know he’s ever let his shields down like that.

He and Ren have hugged one another exactly twice in eight standard years of knowing each other.

The time Desda remembers was when Ren returned from battle on one of the Core plants and Hux - if anyone were to ask him why he behaved the way he did - was entirely delirious with stress. And if anyone were to question him more after that, he’d kill them.

 

* * *

 

_The war still raged, even with Snoke dispatched – there was one particular battle on one of the Core planets that Hux had been very hesitant to let Ren go to, all the while knowing he could never control what Ren decided to do or not do and all the while knowing that even if he_ **_could_ ** _control Ren, Ren_ **_had_ ** _to go and fight._

_For several battles, against Hux’s wishes, he could not join his army. He was forced to remain behind the lines, running numbers, hypotheticals, plotting attack formations, designing defenses and in all ways, working as the Order’s sole, genius tactician. He was deemed indispensable, and so was not permitted on the front lines._

_It wasn’t in Hux’s nature to stay behind like that and he hated every moment of not being with his people._

_Even back when Starkiller was being revealed to the galaxy for the first time, Hux rightfully credited his army with its success. It could not have seen its full potential without them and he stood by them when it was first fired because a sense of unity is too important to a military’s functioning to not have stood with them._

_That aside, he_ **_always_ ** _went into battle with his army. If there was a real, dangerous, rugged, hand-dug-trenches-No-Man’s-Land-Fire-At-Will type of battle going on, he was_ **_there_ ** _. He was there standing by the souls fighting in his name and under his instruction._

_As Hux saw it, it was the only honorable way of doing things._

_The time Ren left for battle, this time that Desda remembers – which is remarkable, considering she was only barely two standard years old at the time – Ren’s comm had gone out while he was still on the ground and he had not returned with the pods of survivors that had come in droves._

_Pod after pod and no Ren._

_Hux’s blood pressure was not appreciative._

_For hours, Hux had sat on the steps of his palace into the night, troopers and officers alike remained with Hux, standing beside him in wait._

_The anxiety must have been coming off Hux in waves for all of these war-hardened men and women and others to put down their arms and stand with him, united - it was the most intense sense of militant sibling-hood he’d ever felt._

_Normally, he’d have cared about what sort of precedent he was setting as Emperor with how he’d been behaving, that they may question whether or not he was sound enough to rule, but he was too stressed to care about how shaken he looked._

_He paced the steps back and forth, Desda sitting at the top of the marble case in the arms of another Knight of Ren who had already returned with no news on Ren._

_That army had waited with their not-yet-crowned Emperor all night and upon the dawn breaking, another, final pod came flying into the palace grounds._

_Hux stood anxiously, watching the pod land roughly, drudging up grass and dirt and skidding onto the land gracelessly and when the doors slid open to reveal Ren, ragged, a little worse for wear, but very much alive, Hux had forgotten he had an audience at all._

_Relief flooded him and propriety, any shred of self-respect, any sense of any form of privacy and any lingering desire for his personal space were gone with the wind. He leapt down the palace stairs maybe three at a time and to Ren’s apparent confusion, he threw himself into Ren’s arms._

_He locked his arms around Ren’s neck and he could smell the soot, the ash, the blood and gore on him and he couldn’t care – he couldn’t care that red and black stains would be smeared across his new, white uniform. He could smell the mint and wine and cologne too, beneath it all and it was so immediately calming, his knees were weak._

_He only cared that Ren had come back alive and all he could think to do was touch Ren and confirm over and over that he really was okay._

_Waiting for Ren on the palace steps that night was the first time Hux had been forced to consider what it would truly be like to raise Desda without him and it had… well, frankly, it had terrified him._

_But he was glad for more than having his Knight returned to him alive and well for his share of parenthood and partnership – he was just glad to have_ **_Ren_ ** _come back safely. Just to have Ren back. That terrified him too._

_“You scared me,” Hux admitted with a shuddering breath against Ren’s neck, “I know what lives we live, I know what dangers are to come and I know you can’t make promises like this, but promise me anyway that you won’t do that to me again.”_

_Ren had hesitated – he was almost never on the receiving end of physical touch from Hux and Hux imagines he must have been very thrown. Typically, Hux would apologize if their fingers so much as brushed while passing a cup of caf or tea – to have Hux wholly and bodily pressed against him from head to toe and of Hux’s own volition was probably a shock to the system._

_Eventually, Ren’s arms came around Hux’s back, pulling him in closer. He nuzzled the space between Hux’s neck and shoulder and replied in that deep baritone, “I’m sorry I scared you. I promise, I’ll do better.”_

_“You don’t need to do better, Ren – you’re already doing your best and I’m proud of you, I commend you for all you’ve done and all you do – your best is more than enough, Ren.”_

_The words of honest praise even surprised Hux when they’d come out._

_Ren barely breathed in response._

_Had anyone ever told Ren he was enough? Had anyone ever told Ren they were proud of him as he was and not for what he could be? Was Hux the first poor bastard to touch Ren with no intention of controlling or hurting him?_

_Hux decided to save those thoughts for another time. Not right then – not when he’d just gotten Ren back and was basking in Ren’s unlikely survival._

_“You’ve fought bravely and honorably and your ‘best,’ is in no way a problem and you are not beholden to me, ever – I am not Snoke. I am not your keeper, Ren. I just…”_

_He could feel how hard and how fast Ren’s heart pounded through Ren’s robes, against his own chest and he wondered if he was making Ren uncomfortable. He couldn’t bring himself to care about that either, though._

_“I just…”_

_“You just what?”_

_“Oh,_ **_Hells_ ** _, Ren, just don’t leave me.”_

_At the crack in Hux’s voice, Ren’s arms squeezed him more tightly and rather than feeling suffocated or embarrassed, Hux let out a sigh of relief, his eyes teary and head pounding. He really needed to lie down - his knees ached from his pacing, his back and shoulders were sore from how tense he’d kept them, his feet hurt from his restricting boots, his uniform was so overworn and chafing and he should have been dressed down hours before, but being in Ren’s arms for the time being was agreeable._

_He didn’t want to move._

_He just wanted to assure himself that Ren was still alive, still solid and corporeal, still well and with him._

_“I promise, then, Hux, that I won’t. I won’t leave you.”_

_When Hux finally started to pull away, Ren loosened his hold, but kept Hux in the circle of his arms. He was dirtied from the battleground, his eyes were glassy, but his expression was happy somehow. He kept his face very close to Hux’s when he promised again, “I won’t leave you... I never thought you’d fear my... departure.”_

_“I… never thought I would either,” Hux realized, staring into Ren’s eyes, unsure of what the twisting in his stomach meant._

_“You’ve not slept or eaten,” Ren noted, petting Hux’s cheek with a calloused hand, mistakenly smearing blood there – not that either of them cared, “I really did worry you, didn’t I?”_

_“More than you could possibly know. You’re going to give me premature grey hairs, you know. I’ll age terribly and it will be entirely your fault.”_

_At that, Ren had smiled and joked, “I cannot be held accountable for your inevitable transformation into a silver fox.”_

_“Silver fox?” Hux had asked with a rising blush, “What in the stars do you mean?”_

_Ren touched at his red hair and didn’t exactly answer him by saying, “you’ll age beautifully, Hux. And you’ll look good, silver and white someday. It will suit you.”_

_Hux was just taking a quick moment to imagine that – being old. Something he never really had the lifestyle to entertain the possibility of. But maybe his circumstances had changed?_

_He tried to imagine growing old, watching his daughter surpass him in every way he so wished she would and he imagined Ren there. He imagined growing old with Ren – what that jet-black hair might be like, all salt-and-pepper and the wrinkle that will inevitably make its way onto his forehead because of all that idiotic scowling he does. He wondered if Ren would have laugh lines. He wondered if he could give them to Ren._

_Desda had cried out for them then and they’d let go of one another, both rushing to her and easing her worried heart, revelations and anxieties put aside for the time being._


	3. Chapter 3

And, though Desda remembers that being their first and only embrace, she could not know of the real first. Very few were there to witness it and even Hux isn’t entirely convinced it wasn’t an elaborate hallucination brought on by his concussion.

Strangely enough, the first time he and Ren touched so kindly was at Snoke’s destruction.

 

* * *

 

_The Knights of Ren had wanted all of Ren’s attention, to celebrate, to be praised by him for their loyalty and cumulative strength – Ren had abandoned them, though, to wake and check on Hux._

_Hux had been tossed around like a ragdoll by Snoke – he brought specialized weaponry, designed for the Knights and specifically for Ren._

_Ren had thanked him again that day._

_It was odd, hearing genuine gratitude come from Ren, but he’d certainly meant it and Hux may not have liked Ren, but he certainly liked the attitude change._

_At some point in battle, after mouthing off to Snoke, Hux had been thrown against a far wall – he’d managed to fire a good, clean shot – sharp enough to take Snoke’s right forearm off. In anger, Snoke used his other arm to levitate Hux’s body by the neck, cut off his airways, swing him across the citadel hall and slam him against the wall. He’d been in and out of consciousness for the end of it all, though he did have the pleasure of watching Snoke’s demise._

_Then, before he knew anything else, Ren was crouched over and beside him, a gentle hand cupping his face, fingertips barely brushing him._

_“Hux?”_

_Hux’s throat felt swollen, but his eyes fluttered open in response. Ren wrapped both his hands around Hux’s neck and just as Hux was positive Ren was going to kill him then and there, instead a soothing coolness spread from just under his jaw to his collarbone._

_The swelling and pain was drained from him almost instantly and he gasped a very rough, sandpapery breath._

_“Hux? Can you speak?”_

_Hux’s brows curved in, because he wasn’t entirely sure he could. His vocal cords were severely damaged – if he could produce any sound at all, it’d have been less than a whisper. He was a little embarrassed to try._

_Ren saw the uncertainty in Hux’s eyes and touched Hux’s far temple, making his telepathic presence known._

**_Have you suffered any other wounds?_ **

**_Broken ribs, certainly, bruised bones, muscles and skin, dislocated shoulder, potential concussion, what feels like a fracture in my tailbone and while you’ve taken the pain from my throat, I think my vocal cords might be permanently damaged._ **

**_I will not allow for anything he’s done to you to last_ ** _, Ren responded firmly, sounding furious on Hux’s behalf,_ **_I will get you to the med-bay. We’ll treat these wounds and I’ll see to it that you heal perfectly._ **

**_…thank you, but I’m fairly sure I can call for aid and get to the med-bay myself. These kindnesses really aren’t necessary, Ren._ **

**_They really are_ ** _, Ren replied, brushing some of Hux’s stray hairs from his forehead,_ **_I couldn’t have done this without you. None of us could have. We all fought valiantly, but without you, this would all have been for naught. We owe you this victory._ **

_Hux hadn’t believed it at the time, that he still had enough blood to fill his face up and while Ren seemed confused by it, Hux was terribly embarrassed. He’d always hated the way he blushed - even as a child._

**_You... really don’t need to say things like that._ **

**_Yes, I really do_ ** _, Ren insisted,_ **_Aside from these injuries, are you okay?_ **

_Shutting his eyes, Hux inwardly checked himself for sensations of internal bleeding, hemorrhaging or anything else life-threatening. He couldn’t sense anything else wrong – he felt like a broken doll, he was eager for painkillers, but he couldn’t sense anything life-threatening festering between his organs._

**_No, I think I am alright otherwise._ **

**_We’ll know for sure once we get a doctor to scan you… I didn’t know you had such a warrior in you, Hux_ ** _, Ren admitted,_ **_You impressed me._ **

_Hux rolled his eyes,_ **_and oh, how you know I live to impress you, Ren._ **

_Before anything else could be said – or, rather, not-said – he found himself wrapped up in Ren’s arms. His torso was ensnared in Ren’s hold and his impulse was to push away, but he was weak and the up’s and down’s his adrenalin had taken throughout the preceding hours had left him dizzy and his parasympathetic nervous system rather confused and tangled in itself._

_It took a moment for Hux to recognize the way Ren was holding him as a hug._

_Hux couldn’t remember being hugged._

_He probably was – as a child, maybe, at some point. He didn’t remember it, though, if it ever did happen._

_He blacked out soon after and eventually woke up to the dimmed lights of the med-bay and Ren, asleep in a chair at the foot of his cot. It was comforting to see Ren there when he woke and he tried not to be disappointed the next time he woke and Ren was absent._

 

* * *

 

To fend off anymore questioning, Hux can probably explain to Desda that he just doesn’t care for hugging - she’d be understanding of a person that just doesn’t like hugs – other than hers, of course – but he doesn’t know how to explain that he and Ren have never kissed.

That they’re not… _together_.

He never expected her to become so inquisitive at such a young age. He hasn’t prepared anything in way of explanation for the unconventional relationship he and Ren share. He doesn’t know how to explain it to anyone, nevermind his own daughter.

“I’m not angry at da,” Hux assures Desda as he settles her down into her bed, “I promise, dear, we’re happy.”

“Are you sure?” Desda asks uncertainly.

And for the first time in several years, Hux wonders if he is.

“Da?” Desda inquires when he takes too long to respond.

His eyes flicker down to her and he smiles as best he can.

It’s such a simple question.

Is he happy?

He’s not sure.

He’s just not sure what the most honest answer is. And if the answer is truly so simple as a ‘yes,’ or a ‘no.’

“Do I seem sad to you, Desda?” Hux elects to redirect.

“Sometimes – when you look at da and when da looks at you – you both seem sad.”

Hux’s chest constricts. He really wishes he knew how to parent – he wishes he had had some sort of role model he could mimic from his past. He’d like to hide Desda from all the unpleasantness of the universe – even glimpses of complicated feelings that might upset her. He’s never loved anything or anyone in the way he loves her and he worries that she might be unnerved if she comes to understand that her parents aren’t as conventional as others’ might be.

“Da watches you when you’re not looking.”

At this, Hux picks his chin up a little, his brow furrowing curiously.

“Does he now?”

“Yes,” she answers, tugging her blanket up to her chin, “Sometimes I have to call for him a few times before he sees me talking to him because he gets so distracted. He likes looking at you – I know he does, but he only does it when you’re not looking and when he’s looking, he seems sad. Happy, because he likes looking at you, but sad too.”

There’s another pause in which Hux is unsure of how to answer her and she fills the silence again, saying, “I know you sleep in different rooms.”

Hux’s eyes widen, “Desda, I promise that is not uncommon. It doesn’t make either one of us less a father to you and it doesn’t mean we love you any less. Do you understand?”

She looks away and mutters, “yes, da, I know. It’s just that… sometimes da seems really, really sad. Sometimes you’re there and sometimes you’re not there, but he gets sad and I don’t know how to fix it. You’re the smartest man in the whole galaxy, though, da and everyone says so – so I know you could fix it if you saw it because you can fix anything.”

“Well, darling,” Hux starts, petting down her hair, “I’ll do my best to fix the sadness, but it’s important that you know that sometimes, people just get sad. Sometimes there’s no reason for it at all.”

“Why?” Desda asks.

How can one explain complex post-traumatic stress and medicine-resistant major depressive disorder to a soon-to-be four year-old?

He has told Desda many lies in the past to help her sleep easier, to make the galaxy seem less chaotic and terrifying. He bestows this mercy on her again.

“Many people die in war, you know and when they die, they’re gone forever. The people that loved them miss them so horribly and that sadness may linger for years - sometimes forever. But sometimes, people die and they have no one who loves them.”

The sadness that fills Desda’s eyes makes Hux’s heart hurt. He twists one of her curls around his finger and extrapolates, “they leave no family or loved ones behind who will remember them. When those people die – the people that never had anyone that loved them? The grief and the mourning for that poor soul is assigned to a random person at a random time. That way, everyone is remembered in some form or another and that’s why, sometimes, one just feels sad for no reason at all.”

Reaching up to Hux a little desperately, Desda whines, “don’t die, da, I’ll miss you and da will miss you and we’ll have the saddest sadness anyone has ever had!”

Hux leans down, smiling at her and he hugs her tightly before telling her, “don’t you worry yourself with that. I’m not leaving you for a long while yet. Your da and I will be here to watch you grow old yourself and have your own family. We won’t leave you.”

Hux’s throat tightens on that promise – not because he doesn’t mean it, but because he’s heard it before and it makes him wonder if Ren felt so much in his own heart and mind when he made the same promise. He wonders if Ren meant it as much as he means it now.

“I love you, da.”

“And da loves you,” Hux assures, kissing her cheek and lying her back down.

He tucks her in and sings her to sleep as he often does. When she’s down and out, he goes to leave and finds Ren standing in the doorway. He’s leaning against the threshold, looking like a perfect, dangerous distraction; regal, reflective and striking.

“How long have you been there?” Hux whispers.

“Long enough to be envious that my daughter has a songbird, but I’m denied one.”

Rolling his eyes dramatically, Hux makes a show of ignoring Ren’s plight and he leads them both away from Desda’s room.


	4. Chapter 4

_“Can you sing?” Ren had asked._

_In the rain and the mud, Hux was knelt down, ruining yet another uniform, but not minding a single bit. Hux had Ren’s head in his lap and he had been brushing through Ren’s hair as a way of comforting him as he tried to recover from a telepathic assault, committed by one traitorous Knight that had tried to usurp his leadership position in the command chain._

_Hux had managed to shoot the other Knight between the eyes for his insubordination, but not before Ren suffered some kind of telepathic attack that had him seething and writhing._

_Hux had found the question odd, but he answered honestly, “I can carry a tune, yes.”_

_“Will you? Sing for me?”_

_“Are you being serious?”_

_“I need a distraction from the pain,” Ren explained, his teeth clenched and muscles tense._

_Hux comm’ed Medical again, they assured a pod was on its way to their location, but they were taking too damn long and he told them as much before angrily cutting off his line. He stared down at Ren and offered to play a song from his holopad, but Ren insisted it be him – the distraction wasn’t the song. The distraction was Hux._

_“Please.”_

_With a heavy, shaky sigh, Hux admitted defeat and asked Ren to at least shut his eyes for the sake of his pride. Bizarrely, Ren adhered and shut his eyes as asked – Hux was rather lost, the whole situation alien to him but he was compelled too, to ease Ren’s suffering in any way he could._

__

_He cleared his throat and sang gently, just above the sound of the water falling into the puddles around them, “_ **_if I had wings, like Noah’s dove… I’d fly the river, to the one I love…  fare thee well, my honey, fare thee well. Well, I had a man who was long and tall… and moved his body, like a cannon ball… fare thee well, my honey, fare thee well…_ ** _”_

 _Looking up into the rain, squinting his eyes, he pet Ren’s overheated forehead and sang, “_ **_I remember one evening, in the pouring rain… and in my heart, was an aching pain… fare thee well, my honey, fare thee well... Muddy river, runs muddy and wild… can’t give a bloody, for my unborn child… fare thee well, my honey, fare thee well._ ** _”_

_He looked back down at Ren’s relaxing features and he ignored the chilling sensation of raindrops sliding down his neck and back, focusing on Ren instead._

_“_ **_Show us a bird, flyin’ high above… life ain’t worth living, without the one you love… fare thee well, my honey, fare thee well. Fare thee well, my honey, fare thee well…”_ **

_“Beautiful.”_

_Hux blushed furiously, thinking it was a mockery and all he was glad for was that Ren kept his eyes shut._

_“You really do have a head injury,” Hux mumbled with a roll of his eyes._

_“You have a beautiful voice, Hux. Truly. Thank you. Will there be more?”_

_With his face still red, Hux sighed deeply again, not feeling put-upon, but genuinely embarrassed. It wasn’t often anymore that he felt like Ren was picking a fight with him or making a joke of him - they made a good team, as it turned out, when they worked in tandem rather than butting heads at every turn._

_Even so, no one had ever complimented him like that - not for something as asinine as singing and it was easier to believe Ren was being disingenuous than to consider the alternative._

_He looked to the sky, trying to spot an incoming pod - or a life-threatening meteor falling from the stars, or really anything that would be a viable excuse to not sing, but it looked like they’d be waiting a bit longer._

_So, he sang again._

_He sang until the pod arrived and the_ **_next_ ** _time Ren asked him to sing, they had been sharing a rare moment alone after putting Desda to bed. He had glared at Ren, turned his back and left the room, thinking it was a joke at his expense._

_Upon further inspection, though…_

_Maybe it wasn’t._

 

* * *

 

“Gather anything interesting?”

“Very. We’ll need to sit down and discuss over dinner,” Ren replies evenly.

Nodding, Hux keeps his back to Ren, unsure of what he’ll see if he turns around. Unsure – that if perhaps he starts _looking_ for the sadness in Ren, that he’ll find it. And he won’t know what to do with it. He doesn’t want to disappoint Desda and he knows she’ll ask him again. He won’t know what to tell her.

They have a private suite in the mansion, near Desda’s room and it allows them privacy and more room than they generally know what to do with.

Ren follows Hux into their kitchen where Millicent is perched, mewling for her lunch. Hux mutters something sweet to her and fills her bowls with fresh water and food.

Ren leans on the counter as Hux takes off his heaviest, outer robes and drapes them over their kitchen table. He bites off his gloves without thinking much of it, washes his hands, then takes vegetables and cuts of meat out from their fridge and, at first in silence, starts preparations for dinner.

There are several reasons Ren makes for a good companion – one of those reasons being that he is comfortable in silence. For an introvert like Hux, it makes Ren’s companionship invaluable. Hux prefers silence over noise of any kind - chatter or music or babbling brooks or thunderstorms or whatever other nonsense people let take up their neural pathways. Hux enjoys the silence of others and he enjoys having the opportunity to be silent himself.

He doesn’t stay silent, though.

He doesn’t need to break any of the silence and he’d always prefer the silence, but instead of keeping to that silence, he speaks.

He sings.

“ _I remember evenings when my dad would sing… hiding in the hallways, I’d listen in… keeping still my body until it's borne aloft – his hair is soft, and his breath is soft and his name is… soft… gathers me completely in his sighing hands, my dove, my dove, my lamb_ …”

He doesn’t need to be looking at Ren to know Ren is shocked. It permeates the air and Hux doesn’t know anything other than how to see through every commitment he makes and a silly song is no different.

He cuts the vegetables, glances at Millicent every now and again and sings, “ _born with ocean thunder underneath our veins, lonelier than cows left standing in the rain… Holy when our weight into the waves is tossed – though ships get lost, and fish get lost, and names get lost – he will wait to greet me where it meets dry land, my dove, my dove, my lamb… so, careful of that language, babe, some words are stones. They'll lead you out from town then leave you all alone... past the mirrored diamond mares that run all night, where camptown ladies sing that song 'aw come, aw wry,' – but, lo they sing it sweetly, so I'll understand, my dove, my dove, my lamb_ …”

Using his knives and the cutting board as a makeshift metronome, he keeps a rhythm against the wood, slicing through tender meat and ignoring his pounding heart, “ _though my sight be near and though my way be long, though the light I chase be disappeared by dawn… I have seen him standing on the roofs at night. I have seen his silver figure bathed and bright… and I have seen him sleeping in the cold white sand, my dove, my dove, my lamb… so, even in these cities where he's haunting me, even when my weariness is wanting me, even when my wickednesses want to breathe, even in these dirty clubs counting one-two-three – I will keep on singing until I no more can, my dove, my dove, my lamb_ …”

He’s taken out the slow-cooker by now, the thick broth already made the night before smells rich and promising. He uses a ladle to carefully drop the cuts of meat and veggies into the stew and as he does, he finishes, “ _later, if I'm better I'll be born again. I'll pull my newborn body from the thorns and limbs, finding with my fingers where they've torn a page, from some ancient book all gold and worn from age… and writ upon it neatly, though in trembling hand, ‘my dove, my dove, my lamb’… later in the evening, I hear trumpets ring. I stretch out in the dark and I am listening… studying the sadness in your perfect limbs, move them under mine until they learn to blend – and I will keep repeating, until they understand… my dove, my dove, my lamb_ …”

A few solid moments of silence pass, enough to make Hux feel self-conscious again. His shoulders are high and his ears are red – he can feel how hot they are. He doesn’t know why he did that and he really doesn’t want Ren to ask.

With the slow-cooker’s top on, there’s nothing left to do at the counter to keep him from facing the other man and never having allowed cowardice to stop him, he turns around as though everything is normal.

Ren’s eyes are wide and round, his mouth is a little slack and having the unique power to disarm Kylo Ren – the most impulsive and irrational person Hux has ever met – is somehow comforting. It feels like equal footing.

“Now you’ve a songbird,” Hux murmurs, “You can put that envy behind you.”

Often there are times that Hux wishes he had the powers Ren was born with. He can only be thankful that Ren doesn’t put them to waste, even if he sometimes uses his powers in ways Hux never would. It’s times like these that he wishes very much he could slip into Ren’s mind and see what’s racing behind his eyes.

It’s been a long time since he’s seen that expression on Ren – but he has managed to shock the man before.

He smiles shyly just remembering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs referenced;  
> 'Fare Thee Well,' by Oscar Isaac and Marcus Mumford   
> 'My Dove, My Lamb,' by Phosphorescent


	5. Chapter 5

_“Ren – I need to speak to you.”_

_Seated in open quarters, Ren was strapping black armor on, looking infuriated – Hux knew Ren was hoping to face Skywalker down there, but there was no promise of him being in attendance at that battle. He knew Ren was particularly hostile for that reason, though – he had been positively intolerable all the past standard week. Hux honestly couldn’t care less about the family holo-drama that was Ren’s life, but he still suffered the wrath of Ren’s unease. At least he can say he did so with poise and composure._

_“_ **_What_ ** _?” Ren bit out impatiently._

_Hux had his holopad out in front of him, wraps still covering his forearm from the hairline fracture Snoke had put in it – wraps were also still bound around his torso, keeping his ribs in place. He wasn’t meant to jostle them too much, but he validated working still by telling himself he was ‘taking it easy,’ and not stressing his body too much by walking about the bridge._

_Three weeks into healing, he was still on painkillers just so breathing didn’t send sharp jolts of pain through his entire body, though, so odds are he was lying to himself._

_“I… have a proposition for you.”_

_“Hells, this can’t wait til later? I made_ **_one_ ** _deal with you_ **_once_ ** _and it worked out_ **_fine_ ** _– I’d like it if we could go back to despising each other now. I have too much to do and don’t you have an empire to build or something?”_

_Clearly, Ren was in no mood, but Hux was not about to be pushed around by that great buffoon, always in a strop about one thing or another. If he waited for Ren to be in a good mood about something, nothing would ever get done._

_“I would only need your attention for a few moments,” Hux replied testily._

_“Fine – I’m giving you the few moments it will take for me to get my armor on and then I’m going planetside.”_

_“Right – it’s about that. You’re dropping down on Ganthel, right?”_

_“_ **_Yes_ ** _, Hux, you’ve_ **_seen_ ** _my itinerary.”_

_“Well, then all there is to ask is…”_

_It was rare that nervousness or hesitation close to shame coated Hux’s tongue til it solidified and refused to work. There were maybe three instances until then that he could recall it happening, but there he was, frozen in place._

_“Well? Get it out already!” Ren ordered, still not looking over his shoulder at where Hux stood in the doorway._

_He cleared his throat, looked down at the idea written out on his holopad and finally announced, “you and I should have a child.”_

_The beat of silence that followed was like a debilitating fever. He couldn’t move an inch, his palms were clammy and he could feel his neck, ears and cheeks were hot and red. And he also felt like he might throw up._

_Ren turned around slowly, staring at him like… well, Hux wasn’t sure. He’d never been stared at like that before._

_“What?”_

_“You and I should have a child,” Hux repeated, gesturing with his holopad, “we –“_

_“No.”_

_Hux was taken aback – he had expected trepidation, but not outright refusal._

_“But we –“_

_“No!”_

_“Ren –“_

_“_ **_No_ ** _!”_

_“If you just -”_

_“_ **_No_ ** _!”_

_“_ **_What_ ** _, having a family with_ **_me_ ** _is so repulsive to you?” Hux sneered, unable to not take the refusal personally – besides, he hated being interrupted and Ren had thinned him of his patience, “You know, you’re not exactly my pick of the litter either! You’re just what makes sense! Get down from your high horse, why don’t you!”_

_“I’m not on a high horse, I’m just not_ **_insane_ ** _!” Ren shouted back, “_ **_Why_ ** _in_ **_all_ ** _the stars would you and I ever,_ **_ever_ ** _– even_ **_consider_ ** _– having a_ **_child_ ** _together?”_

_“Well, if you’d just_ **_listen_ ** _to me, I’d_ **_explain_ ** _why I came to this conclusion,” Hux hissed, gesturing again toward his holopad, “You and I live dangerous lives – the type of lives that don’t last long. If I pass, Phasma can take the crown by force, but her influence won’t be as powerful as a blood heir to the throne. If you pass, you leave no heir behind to complete whatever endeavors you’ve begun and_ **_together_ ** _–_ **_together_ ** _we could create a royal heir with my genius and your Force-sensitivity.”_

_“And you’d go about this_ **_how_ ** _?”_

_“Well, on Ganthel they have cloning machines near the industrial areas. You forget that I’m a master engineer, Ren. Bring me a cloning device and I can repurpose it – instead of one thread of data to clone, we can combine two and use the artificial womb given for gestation – and we can even pick and choose what genes we’d like to be dominant. Our child could be… rather unstoppable, Ren. It’s beneficial to us both and it leaves a positive heir for the throne once the worst of this is over.”_

_For maybe an entire minute, Ren just stared blankly at him._

_Then, “no.”_

_With a petulant scowl, Hux asked angrily, “_ **_why not_ ** _?”_

_“Do I actually need to list the reasons to you? We’re not compatible in any form whatsoever, I never wanted to be a father –“_

_“I don’t need you to father the child.”_

_Ren’s expression changed dramatically and the entire environment shifted into something... more. Ren’s lethality was showing and Hux couldn’t understand why._

_“What do you mean by that?” Ren asked dangerously._

_“I mean I’d parent the child alone,” Hux answered, as if it were obvious, “I don’t need your help, Ren, even if you were willing to give it. You’re worse than a human infant anyway, so it’s not like you’d be of much service. If you don’t want to father the child, just donate your genes and leave me to it.”_

_Hux couldn’t tell if Ren’s face was immensely sad, pitying or infuriated on one or both of their behalves. Something about what Hux had just said had clearly struck a nerve, though._

_“You would not raise_ **_my_ ** _child.”_

_“It would be_ **_my_ ** _child as well, you cock, and there are a thousand reasons this is a good idea and while the number of reasons it’s a bad one is nothing to sneeze at, the good outweigh the bad by an enormous percentage. I’ve written out the pro’s and con’s already and the pro’s drastically outweigh even the hypothetical con’s alone.”_

_Shaking his head furiously, Ren insisted, “no._ **_No_ ** _, Hux. This is_ **_madness_ ** _. You’re not_ **_stealing_ ** _my genes, I’m not having_ **_a child_ ** _with_ **_you_ ** _and I’m fathering_ **_no one_ ** _.”_

_With a proud huff, Hux switched to another screen on his holopad and said, “fine. Fuck you too,” then turned on his heel to leave._

_“What? That’s it?” Ren asked – Hux couldn’t be sure what he meant, but he answered anyway._

_“Yes, Ren, that’s it,” Hux said, tapping his holopad, “I have limited time to make this offer and time-sensitive as it is, I have to go now.”_

_“What? What do you mean?” Ren interrogated, stepping closer to the doorway, “Do you – are you about to make this offer to someone else?”_

_“What, you think I’d trash an entirely genius plan because the first contender decided to be a complete knob? Your genes are superior_ **_and_ ** _my first choice, but I’d never_ **_steal_ ** _from you, Ren. I’m above that and I’m insulted that you’d even think such a thing. No – you’ve insulted me, given me your answer plainly, clearly and repetitively, I accept it and now I’m going to Sol.”_

_Sol Ren – another Knight of Ren that had shown deep interest in Hux since his arrival on_ **_The Finalizer_ ** _. Hux never did care for fanfare or the frivolity of infatuation, but he rather likes Sol. Sol is a good healer, he is considerate and much more mature than Ren. Sol happens to be second in command in the Knights of Ren – he’s second in the power totem pole as well. He will most certainly say yes and Hux knows he will. Sol is actually fairly compatible with him, he would offer his partnership willingly and he’d probably be thrilled to be chosen by Hux as a partner for such an endeavor._

_Sol is a completely fine compromise. It’s just not what Hux wanted – Hux can and will settle for second-best, though, if it means his genius coming to life. He thought of all he never had – how his child would know discipline but adoration as well, they would take all his best traits and the strong Force-sensitivity of Sol and he knew, academically, enough about the Force to help his child master their powers._

_He could create an heir to his throne that would be… legendary._

_And he was not about to give up that dream just because his first choice was a pissy brat._

_“You’re going to Sol with this?”_

_“Yes._ **_Now_ ** _, if you please. You all are landing on Genthal in less than two hours, there’s planning to be done.”_

_Just as Hux turned his heel again, he heard Ren shout his name. Startled and aggravated, he twisted around, wide-eyed and shouted back, “_ **_what_ ** _!? What is it?!”_

_“You are_ **_not_ ** _going to Sol with this,” Ren ordered._

_Hux’s eyes narrowed into slits and he curled his upper lip, flashing what he knew were longer-than-normal canines. It always had the desired effect on underlings like Mitaka - they’d shiver in their boots and go running. He knew Ren wouldn’t fear him like his subordinates did, but his eyes did flicker down enough to give him a tell. Hux could be just as intimidating without use of the Force - he didn’t even need to raise a hand for his temper to be known._

_“_ **_I_ ** _don’t take_ **_orders_ ** _from_ **_you_ ** _. You want no part in this, I’m taking it to someone else. I’m not stopping for you, Ren.”_

_“You_ **_are not_ ** _taking this to_ **_Sol_ ** _!” Ren repeated, looking shaken._

_With noise of disgust, Hux turned and started walking away, yelling over his shoulder, “get fucked, Ren!”_

_In just a flash, entirely against his will, Hux was being flown back into the room Ren was in. When he landed neatly on his feet, he glared at Ren and started in on him, “how_ **_dare you_ ** _use the Force on me! Whether you like it or not,_ **_I’ve_ ** _made a decision about_ **_my_ ** _life – I’m having a child, whether you want me to or not! You’re not even meant to be involved beyond donating some favorable genes – which you’ve declined to do anyway, so let me go to someone who_ **_will_ ** _! Just because_ **_you_ ** _let your dreams die like dehydrated roaches on the ground in no way means I’m going to follow in your footsteps –_ **_you_ ** _do_ **_not_ ** _dictate what_ **_I_ ** _do and do not do, I don’t take_ **_orders_ ** _from you and, in fact, I won’t be taking orders from_ **_anyone_ ** _anymore – once the Commandant is good and dead, I will be in full control of the military. I_ **_will_ ** _be Emperor, I_ **_will have_ ** _my child and you will_ **_piss off_ ** _!”_

_“Fine.”_

_“_ **_Fine_ ** _,” Hux agreed breathlessly, “Glad we’re all sorted. Good. I’m leaving now.”_

_Just as he turned, Ren interrupted his stride, “no – I mean… I don’t mean that I’m fine with… I mean…”_

_Giving Ren one last chance to save face, Hux turned and saw something on Ren he’d never seen before._

_Humility._

_It gave Hux pause._

_“I – I agree. To this. I meant ‘fine,’ as in, ‘fine, I will do this,’ not… don’t go to Sol. Don’t go to any of the other Knights for that matter.”_

_“Are you seriously going to have a child with me out of spite?”_

_“You’re literally having a child to feed your megalomania. You’re hardly one to talk.”_

_They stared at each other for a long while - it was tempting to just take what was being offered now, but twisting Ren’s arm into it wasn’t as satisfactory as Hux may have thought._

_Sighing deeply, his brow relaxing in a show of defeat, Hux responded softly, “nevermind, Ren. I… I didn’t think I’d care this much about it, but your… your consent matters. It matters to me that you don’t want any part in this. I have no wish to coerce you into anything. This child might be a type of project of genius, but I plan to do all that my forefathers couldn’t - I don’t want to bring someone into the galaxy with you and have you… so unattached and uninterested. I don’t mean to force you or coerce you - going to Sol is not a personal attack on you, Ren. I just want… I want this. So, please let me leave now.”_

_Ren’s face fell, that humility taking over again and he took a step closer, gesturing vaguely, “I consent, Hux. I… you’re right. A child borne between the two of us would be… truly a power to be reckoned with. I know you think these things through – I actually think it might be_ **_physically impossible_ ** _for you to do something_ **_impulsive_ ** _, so… I know you’ve probably obsessed over this idea for longer than you’re letting on. I don’t want you to have a child with another Knight of Ren, but I… it’s not out of spite. It doesn’t sit well with me. I was assigned to you, Hux. I can’t promise to protect you from whatever another Knight might do if you open that door to them and… I suppose what I’m saying is that I’m the only one in this galaxy I trust to have a child with you. No one else will do – I… hold you in high respect, despite myself. You deserve more than what they can offer.”_

_Was it worth mentioning that Snoke was dead and Ren was in no way ‘assigned,’ to him anymore? Perhaps not. Perhaps Ren already knew that, already considered that there was no longer a Supreme Leader to answer to and he was reaching for an excuse to stay partnered with Hux - not that Hux could imagine why Ren would want that. They could hardly stand each other and when they did stand each other, it was bizarre._

_When he and Ren got along, it felt a lot like hearing a breath in the dark of a room Hux thought he was alone in. It bordered on frightening - it toed the line of dangerous, there was no way to know what way was up, down, left or right, but he could know he wasn’t alone._

_And there was no real way to know if that was a good thing or not._

_His life was always a windowless room with the lights shut - threats were indistinct and Ren joining him there, in that room, even on rare occasion - it felt sort of… exhilarating._

_Still, Ren was, at times, a knife - he was unused to and possibly unable to act without outside influence and when he was used, when he was held by an enemy hand, he could easily be run along Hux’s jugular or plunged into Hux’s back._

_Warily, Hux scanned Ren for signs of deceit or regret. He couldn’t see anything other than plain, human humility and embarrassed honesty, though. It was like seeing Millicent trying to walk on her hind legs, watching Ren make attempts at earnestness as he was._

_“You can trace your genes back to your grandfather if you so desire,” Hux offered conversationally, “You can give the child all the power in your lineage. I’ve read enough to know how to help the child when their Force-sensitivity begins to show –“_

_“You won’t father this child alone, Hux,” Ren intercepted again – this time, though, it didn’t bother Hux, “I will be there. Beside you. I will help where I can… if you’ll let me.”_

_There was something leaden and unspoken settling in the air between them and it put Hux on edge._

_So, he cracked a semi-joke._

_“Well, I hope it goes without saying that the child will be given my temperament and intellect.”_

_“And hair color.”_

_Hux frowned, confused, “…why my hair color?”_

_“It’s iconic,” Ren answered easily, gesticulating towards Hux’s head, “It’s such a genetic abnormality now, so rare – it’s a trademark. The child needs your hair color.”_

_Hux nodded stiltedly and Ren hesitantly added, “... it’s beautiful too. Like a supernova. I’d like the child to have your hair color.”_

_Flustered yet again, Hux felt his entire face redden. He looked away and muttered, “well, so long as the child might have your lips and eyes, I won’t argue with you about the hair.”_

_Touching at his lips absently for a moment or two, Ren considered this, his own cheekbones darkening, then he said, “…fine, but your eye color. We can use my eye shape, but… I want them to have your eye color.”_

_They stood a few feet from one another, slowly digesting what they’d just agreed and admitted to. It all felt very heavy and it seemed like they could just gaze at each other in wonderment for all eternity if neither of them walked away._

_Thankfully, Ren cleared his throat after a while and asked, “where will I find this cloning device?”_

_“Oh,” Hux let slip, fumbling for a page lost on his holopad, “Uhm – there are buildings in the third quadrant close to your landing spot that used to manufacture them. I can direct you, through your comm, once you land, if that makes things easier…”_

_“Yes, do that,” Ren responded, then unable to make eye-contact, “That will do – that’s fine.”_

_Even though the encounter had every right to be the worst, most awkward and bizarre moments of Hux’s adult life… he felt good. Like he was doing something good._

_He felt like he finally had the power to mold something beautiful, to create instead of destroy and to create something so wonderful, so powerful, so intensely unique and unknown to the universe, they would be more worthy of loving and being loved than he could ever hope to be._

_He felt light._

_He may have smiled._

_Maybe that’s why Ren stared him the way he did._

 

* * *

 

Ren still stares at him in absolute reverence, muttering softly, “… thank you…”

“You don’t have to,” Hux replies gently, sitting at their dining table, pulling up a holopad, “Now – you told me you’d pulled some interesting information from the prisoners. Shall we…”

Hux trails off when he meets Ren’s unyielding gaze. He tries hard not to look for lingering sadnesses. He doesn’t know what he’d do with them if he found them and he’s never really been the emotionally available type. Strangely enough, that’s Ren’s area.

“What?” Hux asks, “What is it?”

Ren is standing there, refusing to sit, just looking more handsome than he has any right to and staring away.

“Hux… I need to speak with you…”

Taking note of the serious tone in Ren’s voice, Hux puts his holopad aside and clasps his hands over the tabletop.

“I’m ready to listen, then,” Hux offers graciously, “Whatever it may be.”

There’s a twinkle in Ren’s eye – he nearly smiles, but he seems too nervous to complete it. He glances down at his feet, then back to Hux and says, “I… have a proposition for you.”


	6. Chapter 6

_“Brel.”_

_“No.”_

_“Cero.”_

_“No.”_

_“Fiass?”_

_“No, Ren.”_

_“Dalen?”_

_“No!”_

_“Wai?”_

_“_ **_No_ ** _, Ren!”_

_“Kaari? Quina?”_

_“_ **_No_ ** _, Ren, absolutely not!” Hux refused, very nearly laughing, “_ **_No_ ** _, goodness, those are all_ **_terrible_ ** _.”_

_The cloning machine was open, wires, bolts, flips and switches all showing like a cadaver on a slab. Hux had been working away at it since Ren had returned with it – barely taking time to eat. Sometimes – a time like this, Ren would join him in his quarters as he worked away and Hux would only_ **_slightly_ ** _mind the way Ren paced in circles behind him as he worked. The company was actually pleasant, if he ignored the obvious anxiety emanating from Ren._

_“They’re all gender-neutral and perfectly adequate. And it’s not as though you’re offering up any ideas,” Ren grumbled with arms crossed over his chest._

_After a few moments’ thought, Hux turned around to face Ren. He pushed his cuffed sleeves further up his elbows and noticed the way Ren watched his forearms move. He thought Ren might be worried about how he’d been healing – he thought of mentioning that his arm feels much better but that his ribs are still bruised, but he decided not to bring attention to the fact that Ren was staring at all. The way Ren stared was almost… well, something else._

_“How do you like the name Desda?”_

_“…Desda?” Ren asked, elongating the name as if he were tasting it on his tongue, “Desda… what type of name is that?”_

_“Gender neutral, fairly ancient… it means joy.”_

_Hux knew bringing sentimentality into the matter might make Ren up and run from it, but as the weeks passed, it became harder and harder_ **_not_ ** _to become emotionally invested in what – or, rather,_ **_who_ ** _– he was creating._

_“Joy… I like that,” Ren decided quickly, “I really do. Desda – that works. Desda it is.”_

_Hux smiled kindly at Ren, appreciating that Ren acknowledged his finer tastes in even things like linguistics. He didn’t expect Ren to shy away at his show of friendliness – that’s what Ren did, though._

_Hux didn’t know what it meant then._

_For a standard month, Ren watched restlessly as Hux reengineered the cloning machine and while they traded words every now and again, they mostly stood by one another in silence. Ren made himself useful by passing tools and wires, holding up lights where Hux needed better viewing and shutting the Hells up when Hux needed to focus._

_Once their re-engineered cloning machine was up and running, the two of them had eight vials of blood taken and every hormone, chemical, fiber and trait traceable in their blood was made available for examination on holopads to be made dominant or recessive and translated into code – the data would then be manually plugged into the machine._

_They fought over a few items, but all in all, they found themselves on the same page. The red hair color of Hux stayed, the thick hair type of Ren was implemented, the eye shape of Ren was agreed upon, the eye color of Hux was negotiated (Hux was a little surprised Ren didn’t know that his eyes were attractive and worth passing down – Ren insisted on his eye color, though, so Hux didn’t argue too much)._

_They both had a genetic predisposition for introversion – Hux more so than Ren, but that worked in their favor; they assigned Desda a fair predisposition for both, letting nature and nurture do the rest. Hux assured Ren that the child would be raised in such a way that they would have an opportunity to embrace equal parts extroversion and introversion._

_Ren had to remind him that he wasn’t doing this alone._

_Blushing, Hux simply nodded in response, a mumbled “of course not – right, I know,” dropped somewhere against his chest before moving onto the next item on their list._

_For a naturally high I.Q, Hux elected his own lineage of genius to be incorporated and he seemed to genuinely floor Ren when he announced, “well, the child can’t rely on me for anything emotional – they’ll need your emotional intellect, high as it is. I don’t know if that’s nature or nurture for you, but I’m counting on it.”_

_“Emotional intellect?” Ren asked, stunned._

_“Yes,” Hux answered easily, still staring down at the coding on his holopad, “You’re sensitive, an Empath. I think it has little to do with your psychic abilities and much more to do with your personality type. You’re hyper-aware of the emotions of those around you and – whether you act on what is wise or not – you generally know the best course of action in regard to reacting to those emotions as well. You are_ **_highly_ ** _emotionally intellectual. I think given a different environment in youth, you might have been a very sociable person with a maturity beyond your years. As it stands, you are wise and compassionate, even if you don’t always use those talents when you ought to.”_

_There was such a deep silence for such a long time that Hux, consumed by his work as he’d become, finally had to put his holopad down and look at Ren to see if he was still in the room at all. Ren was just staring at him, unreadable._

_“What?” Hux asked._

_“I don’t think anyone has ever described me in such a way.”_

_“Well, most people are idiots,” Hux reasoned loftily, “I happen to be a genius, so you can trust my interpretations.”_

_“I already did. I do.”_

_Unable to discern why, Hux’s cheeks reddened again at that and he looked away, asking if it was alright to give the child Ren’s skin type. They carried on after that, but it was not so casual anymore. Everything seemed more significant than before._

_They loaded the genetic coding with Force-sensitivity and Hux was rather taken with the way Ren’s entire face lit up when the possibilities were shown to him. Ren looked very different, younger, brighter – almost innocent – in happiness._

_Desda had not arrived yet and even so, they were bringing their predestined joy._

_After three days of tirelessly working through every node in every thread of genetic code, Hux spent seventeen hours straight, logging the information into the cloning machine. It had a sort of egg shape to it, the machine – the artificial womb was submerged in nutrient-rich fluid within it and it had a type of placenta forming around the interior._

_An egg with half the genetic coding in it was made out of bone marrow harvested and mixed together from both Ren and Hux and all it took from there was a sample of skin, a sample of sperm, a sample of blood and a sample of hair from both parties._

_Gestation began exactly a week later._

_Ren was meditating with the Knights when Hux had come skidding into his quarters. Ren was a moment away from rage for the interruption, but at the look on Hux’s face, he’d paused, his jaw going slack._

_“Is something wrong?”_

_“Not at all!” Hux told him honestly, “It’s begun! You must come see!”_

_Without a single word to the Knights, Ren rose to his feet and followed Hux into what Hux had taken to calling the Gestation Chamber. Ren thought it was rather funny to call it the ‘womb room,’ but stopped calling it that when Hux smacked a holopad over his head for saying it maybe ten times in a row._

_Apparently, Ren had expected a fully formed fetus to be greeting him and was fairly confused at the sight of what appeared to be a mold growth on the lining of the womb._

_“That’s it?”_

_“That’s_ **_them_ ** _, yes,” Hux corrected, smiling proudly, “They’re forming beautifully. The embryogenesis has begun. The next twelve standard weeks will be the most dangerous for them. We must take special care to see to their – where are you going?”_

_“That is a ball of cells,” Ren declared drily, turning to leave, “That is not a ‘them,’ yet.”_

_Hux frowned, brows pulled in, “I thought you’d be excited…”_

_“You forget our arrangement, then, Hux.”_

_With his heart sinking into his stomach, Hux watched Ren’s back as Ren stood and told him frostily, “don’t mistake my tolerance for…_ **_excitement_ ** _. I still believe this to be a bad idea, but I wasn’t going to let you make that rash, bad decision alone or with someone who would let you fail or ensure your failure. I’m not here against my will, but that doesn’t mean I am excited to see an inkling of a chance of this maybe working. Next that you alert me of a development, make it worth my time.”_

_Furrowing his brow in hurt and frustration, Hux replied coolly, “right. Of course. Sorry to have inconvenienced you, then. It won’t happen again.”_

_That was less of a promise and more of a threat._

_Ren could accuse Hux of forgetting their deal, but clearly, Ren had forgotten that Hux held onto grudges tight as a vice and was as vindictive as they come._

_When Ren left, Hux made a decision to spend as much time as possible with the growing embryo. He swore he would be a better father than his was – he refused to be absent, for all and anything. Even the parts Desda would only know through retellings._

_There would be stories, then, probably told by Phasma of how Desda’s father, founder of the New Empire, decorated General of the First Order, Aurelien Hux, sat by their developing side cycle after cycle, eager to greet them, to meet them and show them all the wondrous things there were to be seen in the galaxy._

_Desda would know love like he’d never known it - it wasn’t a sentiment he could voice because he didn’t think he had the words for it, but even if he did, expressing that sentiment to Ren seemed like putting a very vulnerable part of his heart under the shine of a rising meat cleaver._

_So, without warning or word to anyone but Phasma, Hux moved a cot into the Gestation Chamber, kept some clothes in there and even started making use of the communal showers and bathrooms in the halls near the chamber, rather than using his very fine, private quarters._

_He stopped returning to the bridge unless absolutely necessary, opting instead to work from the chamber and his holopad, sometimes explaining his plans aloud to Desda, using them as a sounding board for his future endeavors. He brought Millicent to stay with him in the chamber and, as ever, she was the best company a man could ask for._

_Three standard weeks passed in relative peace and permeating quiet before he saw Ren again._

_He was working on weapon design plans on his holopad when the doors slid open and Ren, fairly shyly, entered with his head down._

_Hux watched him, a hand on Millicent as if to influence her into staying next to him instead of greeting Ren. She seemed to make that decision well enough on her own, though. She was a keen girl._

_When Ren picked his head up, he looked at the womb and said with some degree of bewilderment, “…that’s flesh.”_

_“Yes, it is week four since gestation began – nearly week five. The heart and spine are forming – the leg buds too. In maybe two or three weeks, they’ll be able to hear. What are you doing here?”_

_Ren glanced at Hux, then moved his eyes back to the embryo, “… I’ve not seen you for over two weeks. I was worried.”_

_“No need to be, clearly,” Hux said in way of dismissal, “I’m quite fine. I was also in the midst of work, so if you’d see yourself out…”_

_Hux ducked his head down to his work before Ren could meet his eyes. He was in no mood for the swings Ren’s would often take and he was really rather tired of butting heads with the man. He didn’t want Ren lingering more than was necessary to tolerate._

**_Do not brush me off so coldly._ **

_“_ **_Don’t_ ** _do that,” Hux commanded, still not deigning to look up, “My mind is_ **_off limits_ ** _and you know that already. I’m_ **_working_ ** _and seeing as that embryo can’t tap dance, recite chemical compounds in alphabetical order while inflicting Force Horror yet, I didn’t see it fit to alert you to any changes_ **_worth your time_ ** _.”_

_There was a pregnant silence pushing violently down on the atmosphere until Hux surrendered to it and looked up, finding Ren standing there and looking more than tired – befuddled too._

_“You are fearless, aren’t you, Hux?”_

_Hux’s forehead pinched and he asked, “… how do you mean?”_

_“I have a habit of pushing away things that frighten me, always have. I’ve been unkind to you and it’s nothing of your doing. It’s underserved – the way I’ve treated you as of late. Particularly our last encounter. I have no excuse for that behavior. But you…”_

_When Ren trailed off, Hux tilted his head, allowing some honest curiosity to cross his features to encourage Ren’s observations, whatever they may have been. Ren continued, “… you don’t mind that I could kill you with a twist of my hand, you don’t mind undertaking the responsibility of another human’s life and wellbeing… you would truly do this alone if I were unwilling to partner with you – you may kick me out yet – and it astonishes me. How do you not feel fear in the face of all this… enormity?”_

_“I do,” Hux told him frankly, wondering if Ren were really so dense, “I’m petrified, Ren. But being petrified doesn’t do anyone any good. Coming to a full stop at full speed can only cause chaos – there is no getting around these things in life, Ren, there is only getting_ **_through_ ** _them. You will kill me or you won’t – dreading my demise by your hand is hardly worth meditating over. What will I suffer? Maybe ten seconds of consciousness before rejoining the ether? What is there to fear? What is there to waste precious energy and thought on? Nothing. You will either kill me or you won’t – I won’t be troubled by either. If you’ve not noticed, I’ve been in charge of countless lives, one might compare it to even being in charge of_ **_an army_ ** _– this one is only different because it is an extension of myself and it…_ **_means_ ** _something. Which means failure is not an option and not an imaginary option I will entertain, building worst-case scenarios just to fret over. Furthermore, I have always been alone, Ren. I do not suffer greatly at the thought of solitude with my child. I will rise to the occasion, I will follow through, I will rise above and overcome and I will succeed as I always have because there is no doing anything else. There_ **_is_ ** _nothing else, no other option. I feel fear, Ren, I just don’t let it control me.”_

_Nodding, though looking stunned still, Ren crossed the room to stand in front of the machine, across from where Hux sat on his cot. He bowed at the waist, his hair falling partly in his face._

_Hux found it distracting._

_“I’m sorry for what I said and how I treated you,” Ren starts, “I let my fear control me. I will make more efforts in the future to better combat my fear. I don’t have any desire for you to feel alone in this again – I should not have treated you the way I did. It may have been only a ball of cells when you took me to see them, but you were proud and excited and I stained that memory for you. I really am sorry.”_

_After a moment’s hesitation, Hux loosened the vice hold he was keeping on his grudge, sighed deeply, nodded and replied exhaustedly, “apology accepted, then.”_

_Some quiet fell again and there was more uncharacteristic shyness emanating from Ren before he simply asked for what he wanted._

_“May I… may I stay here for the sleep cycle?” Ren inquired politely, “I worry I’ve worn out my welcome, but, if you’ll allow me to, I’d… I’d like to hear all that I have not been witness to in my arrogance. I will leave, though, if it’s disagreeable to you.”_

_Hux examined the slope of Ren’s broad shoulders, the strength in his neck and his hands and chest. His hair was longer – Hux would have liked to cut it. He liked Ren’s hair long, but it desperately needed a trim. He would get to that eventually._

_There was so much happening and it seemed as if time were closing in on them, rushing them to accomplish impossible feats, but slowing them down as well all at once. From convincing Ren to cut his hair to building an Empire to making a child – it all seemed trivial and incredible and improbable and lagging and accelerated._

_Well._

_What was one night spent together, watching over their child? Hux supposed._

_“It’s not disagreeable, Ren,” Hux replied in time, reaching over for his second of four holopads, “I’ve been taking diligent notes on every day’s developments. You’re welcome to look them over.”_

_“I’d much prefer you tell me about them.”_

_Frozen in place, Hux stopped moving toward the holopad and looked up at Ren again._

_There was doubt and embarrassment first, but Hux, with a small measure of reluctance, did as Ren asked – perhaps Ren could tell that Hux was bursting at the seams with the want to talk about Desda’s growth – if he sensed it, then he said nothing about it and Hux was grateful for that._

_While Phasma was openly curious about Desda and there occasionally to sit beside him, intently watching every modicum of growth or shifting, it was not as meaningful as having Desda’s other parent present._

_It didn’t take long after that cycle for Ren to bring his own cot into the chamber, his own clothes, toiletries and even the other Knights began to make rounds, coming in to see Desda and Ren would introduce them to the embryo, as though Desda were simply a shy child, unwilling to introduce themselves and not a hardly-formed human._

_It was a little sweet, if Hux were honest with himself._

_Which he hardly ever was._

_What was far sweeter and a visual memory forever scorched in Hux’s mind is the memory of when Ren first laid eyes on Desda’s fully formed face._

_The day Desda was born was two weeks later than Hux had predicted – he’d been worried for a while, fretting over all the controls and wanting to force the gestation to complete its cycle, but all the monitors keeping track of Desda’s vitals assured him all was proceeding as planned. Desda was just running late, it seemed._

_Ren passed him some worried glances every now and again, but reassured him most of the time, complimenting his genius, insisting that there could be nothing wrong with the machine or the child, seeing as both were crafted by Hux’s brilliant hands._

_Contrary to popular belief, in Hux’s world, flattery_ **_did_ ** _get one places and Ren’s compliments did plenty to make him more tolerable. It didn’t always ease the anxiety for Desda’s health, but it felt nice to not be left alone and for his efforts to be appreciated._

_Loathe as he was to admit it, he was glad Ren wanted to help father the child. He was grateful that Ren was staying in the chamber with him during sleep cycles, that Ren was starting to take pride in Desda, bragging to the Knights about how Desda ‘no longer resembled a sea-monkey.’_

_Things were tense, quiet, but still relatively peaceful._

_Then the womb descended._

_Hux was alone in the chamber, staring down at his holopad when he heard something strange. He looked up to see the fetus settling at the bell curved bottom of the tank and Hux’s blood pressure had rocketed. He’d been alone at the time and he comm’ed Phasma, needing the emotional support and then comm’ed Ren._

_“Ren. Come to the chamber – quickly.”_

_“Is everything okay?”_

_“Yes, but if you don’t hurry, Desda will meet Phasma before meeting you,” Hux teased with a grin._

_The comm shut off so quickly, Hux had chuckled to himself, high on endorphins and adrenaline, feeling idiotically fond of the idea of Ren rushing through the halls, pushing people over in his haste to get there before Phasma._

_As it so happened, he_ **_did_ ** _make it there before Phasma. His hair was everywhere, his robes were askew and his eyes were wild, but he somehow seemed smaller than Hux had ever seen him before._

_Ren was scared._

_It was somehow endearing._

_Hux had his arms reaching into the tank, protective gloves up past his elbows and nothing else on but cotton pants and a threadbare undershirt. He smiled at Ren and asked, “would you like to help deliver them?”_

_Ren bobbed his head almost violently before making his way to Hux’s side and without fear or disgust for the amniotic fluid dripping out onto the floor and all over their clothes. Together, they pulled Desda from their comfy womb and into the cool, breathing world._

_They already had blonde-red curls on their head, pouty lips and what appeared to be some freckles or cafe au lait spots._

_Hux laughed and stared down at Desda in amazement, so beyond having the capability to be mad about it but being unable to keep himself from asking, “Ren, did you alter the coding so they would inherit my freckles?”_

_When Ren didn’t respond, Hux looked to him and Ren’s eyes were glassy and honed in so intensely on Desda, he may not have even heard Hux at all._

_Hux’s attention was torn – he wanted to look at Desda, but he was taken with Ren’s open expression of awe and reverence. He had been watching Desda grow and grow for several standard months – the expression openly splayed over Ren’s face, though, was entirely unfamiliar._

_Then Desda let out a squeal and cry and Ren nearly jumped out of his skin, his hands shaking and eyes rounder and whiter than they’d ever been._

_Hux looked down at Desda and watched them open their eyes in a squint and Hux smiled, muttering, “well – welcome to the galaxy, Desda.”_

_Ren stared at Hux’s profile – Hux didn’t turn to look at Ren staring, but he felt those eyes boring into him. He was a little worried that if he looked back at Ren, he’d get lost in those deep, dark eyes._

_He faulted the endorphins for his draw to Ren – he was a new father and Desda’s other parent was there, fawning over the newborn darling of the First Order. How hot his blood got, how his heart fluttered like a feather on the wind and his stomach went weightless meant nothing – it was just chemicals. Chemicals._

_Still, thinking he could further disarm and please Ren, he pet Desda’s rosy cheek and whispered, “you should probably say hello to your da, Desda – he looks about ready to buckle at the knees.”_

_It was then that Hux chose to look at Ren, grinning like he’d told a great joke. Ren’s face was grave, though, it was so serious and still slack – he clearly had no idea what to do with the emotions he was experiencing._

_Hux knew calling Ren ‘da,’ would have an effect and though he’d been willing to laugh at whatever effect that would present as moments before, he didn’t want to laugh anymore. He just wanted to smile at Ren and his child and the way Ren was so overcome._

_Instead of telling Ren he ought to lighten up, Hux just grinned wider and directed Ren sweetly, “take them from my hands, Ren. I need to sever the cord and get some towels. Hold them up to your heart so they can hear it beating.”_

_Silent still, Ren did as he was told and it was as Hux was getting some towels that Phasma made it into the chamber. She smiled brightly, approaching quickly._

_“Has everything gone alright? All limbs and digits accounted for? Eyes open?”_

_“Yes, yes and yes,” Hux answered, cleaning Desda as best he could with them still tucked against Ren’s chest, “Ren appears to be in some sort of catatonic shock, but I assure you all is well.”_

_Phasma gave a small laugh and asked to look at Desda. Her eyes glittered when she gazed down at Desda and she congratulated them, telling Hux, “they’ve got your eyes, Hux. What a beauty.”_

_“They’re perfect.”_

_Hux and Phasma both turned to Ren and saw his wide, glassy eyes laser-focused on Desda. He had something like a smile on his face, but it wasn’t quite right – it was like a smile that mourned as well – for how intense an expression it was, Hux wasn’t entirely sure there was a word for it._

_“They are the most perfect thing in this universe, Hux,” Ren whispered, unable to take his eyes from Desda._

_Hux blushed, still smiling and unable to stop._

_“They are,” Hux agreed, “I’m glad you’re pleased with the results, uhm - with them.”_

_That was clinical to say, Hux knew - describing Desda like a product to be traded, but he still wasn’t entirely sure where Ren stood in regard to their arrangement and how sentimental he’d allow Hux to be._

_Somehow understanding Hux’s thought process without Hux uttering another word, Ren shook his head and tugged Desda closer to him, “no, Hux – I love them. I love them – I_ **_adore_ ** _them. This is my_ **_child_ ** _– our child, Hux.”_

_When Ren did meet Hux’s eyes, Hux’s heart stuttered and nearly stopped. He swallowed roughly, finding it difficult to breathe and Ren professed again, “_ **_our_ ** _child, Hux… they’re beautiful and perfect. The most perfect thing I’ve ever beheld.”_

**_To think I once meant to stop you… I am ashamed, Hux._ **

_Hux didn’t know how to reply, which was fine for the time being, because the Knights burst in as a horde and they all came to Ren’s back, looking over his shoulders to see Desda for themselves, curious eyes all traipsing over the bundle in Ren’s arms._

_They all must have been talking telepathically, because Ren was just nodding, smiling and muttering back to them, “yes – yes, I know. I know. They are. They are perfect.”_

_He looked at Hux again, his eyes full of shine and wonderment and he said, directly in Hux’s head,_ **_perfect_ ** _._

_At the time, Hux thought Ren was talking about Desda, but looking back… perhaps not._


	7. Chapter 7

“A proposition?” Hux asks curiously, wondering why Ren’s voice is so solemn for something sounding so light in significance.

“Yes,” Ren answers, a bit without need to, still looking a touch nervous.

“Well, alright, then,” Hux tells him, a suspicious tone to his own voice, “what is it?”

“… you should marry me.”

For a while Hux just hears the ringing of the tinnitus he’s had since combat training (when some idiot with a blaster fired from right over his fucking shoulder and rendered him partially deaf for about a week).

It comes and goes.

Ren has often complained about it being contagious to telepathic beings like himself and he’s often cured the migraines associated with the intense ringing, when it does get bad.

It’s very loud right now.

He doesn’t stop staring at Ren and his mouth is clamped shut and he knows that’s rude, to stare like he is and go so long without speaking all while staring for longer than is generally deemed appropriate, but he’s not sure he can move his body – his eyes are wide and he’d like to speak, he really would, he’s just sort of forgotten how to make words.

He wonders briefly if he could be suffering from a sudden onset of aphasia.

He can’t remember if that means damage to his Broca’s or Wernicke’s area. Broca’s area is in the frontal lobe, though – he reasons that’s language production then, seeing as that’s where most activity in information gathering and exchange happens. Wernicke’s area deals with understanding language – that’s got to be in the temporal lobe.

Hux surmises that both may have suffered mysterious and abrupt damage.

He might be having a stroke, in fact.

There is still ringing in his ears.

“Hux?”

“What?”

Hux’s eyes must come back into focus or something because Ren stops looking halfway worried and goes back to looking fully and unnaturally nervous.

“You… I told you that you should marry me and your immediate response was a thousand yard stare and a deep paling.”

“I… you – I’m sorry, what?”

It’s clear that Ren wants to laugh at Hux’s inability to verbalize his thoughts, as he is not prone to stammering or hesitations, but Ren is also too tense to make light of anything, it seems. There’s something about how Ren’s brow rests and how the line of shoulders sits when he’s stressed that gives him away, no matter how he might try to hide away how anxious he is.

Hux wonders when he learned that about Ren.

No one ever told him such a thing. He must have collected that data over the time spent together – unconscious observations.

“You should marry me, Hux.”

“… why?”

The options of “yes,” or “no,” didn’t really occur to Hux before speaking.

He thinks he may have even said, “what,” again.

Maybe he did.

Can aphasia just occur spontaneously?

He’s stunned over again as Ren takes a deep breath and says, “I’m glad you asked. I’ve meditated long on this – the Empire has hit a plateau in morale and with the war, while dwindling, is still on-going, they need cause for celebration, a reminder of what it is they’re representing and protecting. Your Empire worships you, Hux – as they ought to. Desda is the darling of the Empire, but very few actually know that she is… _ours_. A union between us will give the Empire something universally celebratory, it can unify them, give them a spiritual lift and moreover, we can show the Rebellion how we’re really doing rather fine. That their attacks are not stopping us from thriving. It will empower your people, unify your army, solidify your persona as a family-oriented leader and it will discourage the Rebels all in one fell swoop.”

“A political marriage,” Hux states more than asks, still staring wide-eyed at Ren, his heart thundering, “… you want me to marry you… for political gain?”

“We father Desda together, Hux, I already receive equal share of what you gain and you’ve been more than generous with what you consider ‘equal,’ – I don’t have ulterior motives, there’s nothing for me to ‘gain.’ I just think it’s… a wise choice.”

Hux pulls his brows in, the ringing in his ears getting louder, “… so… we would be married… on _paper_?”

“Yes, we would have witnesses, have it aired on every holo-channel the galaxy has to offer, have documents legitimized and carry on in private however you see fit.”

“… for the sake of the _Empire_?”

With a shrug, Ren tells him simply, “a catalyst so simple as a marriage was once the downfall of the entire Jedi council – I think, given the right circumstances, the circumstances I believe we have, it could mean the full realization of the Empire and the end of the war.”

“No.”

“It’s just another form of propaganda, the type you have already proven works, it –"

“No, I’m not saying I disagree with your insights, Ren, I’m saying… I’m saying I won’t marry you.”

Ren’s blush is dark and reluctant – he hates when his shame shows on his face, but he can help it about as much as Hux can. He despises his own self-awareness. And Hux wonders when he learned that about Ren as well.

“… why not?”

This line of questioning is outrageous and the ringing is only getting louder.

“Because – because I said ‘no,’ and that’s all you need to know,” Hux retorts sharply.

“Is there someone else?”

“What?”

“Is there someone else you’re… _involved_ with?”

“ _Dating_? Are you seriously asking me if I’m _dating someone_? I’m the ruler of a very fragile, newborn Empire and a full-time father and you think I have room in my schedule to _date_? _No_ , Ren, you nimrod, I’m not ‘involved,’ with anyone and saying ‘someone else,’ implies that I’m ‘involved with,’ or dating _you_ , which I’m not because I'm sane and not a prepubescent youngling. We are partners, Ren.”

“Which is _why_ I thought my proposition would _please_ you,” Ren defends, looking affronted and still bashful at once, “I _thought_ you would see the logic in it.”

“I _see_ the logic, Ren,” Hux sneers, the ringing in his ears getting more intense; he stands from the table and moves around it, moving to leave the room and lie down and contemplate ever getting up again, “Nevermind this. My appetite is soured and you can send me a holo-doc on whatever you got from the prisoners’ psyches. I’m leaving.”

Before he can even fully react, Ren grabs his arm as he tries to pass and turns him around – and while Ren’s hold is tight, bordering on painful, it lacks anger. Hux thinks he might even be seeing Ren’s fingers twitch or shake. Like Ren is unsure of what he's doing, which Hux supposes Ren usually is totally unsure of what he's doing. 

Unpredictable and generally ill-conceived, half-concocted pandemonium is sort of Ren's entire modus operandi, actually.

“I thought this through very, very thoroughly, Hux,” Ren tells him, voice hoarse, “Why are you angry?”

“I’m not –"

“ _Yes_ , you are.”

They gaze at each other and Hux swallows roughly, his chest and stomach tight with nerves. He rolls his eyes, trying to shake off what he knows is a silly anxiety to harbor. Since when has he been nervous talking to Ren? It’s _Ren_. He tells himself inwardly to calm down – that doesn’t stop the ringing, though.

It's really rather rude of Ren to keep him from hiding in his bedroom. He does no harm there. And retreat from Ren is so often a more pleasant and less noisy option. 

“There are plenty of things I’m willing to do for the Empire and to end the Rebellion," Hux explains, face darkening, "but I will not engage myself to or marry someone as a political move, Ren. And, frankly, I’m offended that you thought it would appeal to me.”

Seeming shocked by this revelation, Ren raises his voice, laced with incredulity, “Hux, we had a _child_ together for political gains.”

“And we _loved_ her because there is nothing else a human heart can do!” Hux shouts.

He rips his arm from Ren’s hold, unable to derive any meaning from the look on Ren’s face and unnerved by that fact.

“What?” Ren asks, very nearly mockingly, “Are you saying you are someone who will only marry for love?”

Curling his upper lip, Hux snaps back, “ _no_. I’m telling you I’m someone who will not marry _at all_.”

“ _Why_?” Ren growls with deep frustration.

“Because no one can love a thing like me!”

Ren staggers back a footstep and Hux holds his forehead in his palm, scrunching his eyes shut, trying to smother the noise in his head that’s turning sharp and painful.

He hopes it’s contagious right now and that Ren catches it for forcing him to talk about _feelings_. He hates this.

“I don’t want to marry someone who sees me as a piece on a chessboard,” Hux starts, seeing no way out of this other than explaining his own thought processes, “… I don’t… I don’t _date_ , Ren, I don’t _do_ things like that, I never have – I don’t endeavor to find love because there is none out there for me, for people like me and I would very much rather be alone for the sake of my happiness than stuck in a loveless sham of a marriage for the sake of others’ success – no matter how it effects my own successes. I don’t want to live the life my father and his father and _his_ father lead. Lives half-lived in empty love relationships, so often arranged for the benefit of someone else - I don't want that. If I were ever going to marry, it would be for someone I could not stand to be parted with. Not because it’s the most _logical_ thing to do.”

Aside from his heart pounding and the high pitch in his ears, there is a resounding silence in the room.

Under other circumstances, he'd be anxious to see Ren's reaction, but right now, Hux is too tired to seek Ren out. He’s too tired in too many different ways to look Ren in the eye and further this bizarre agony or catch any budding sadnesses.

“You’re not alone.”

With a forced, sarcastic laugh, Hux mutters to the floor, “that’s the one bit you caught?”

“You’re _not_ alone,” Ren reaffirms, suddenly grabbing Hux by both his upper-arms.

Straightened by Ren’s hold, Hux is forced to drop his hand from his forehead and look into Ren’s eyes then. They’re swimming with emotion and his face is still flushed. Everything is too warm and Hux would really prefer to go to his room in relative peace now. He gets the feeling he’s stuck there until Ren deems the conversation done with, though.

“You are always thinking alone, always believing you have to do these things alone - genius that you are, you’ve failed to realize I’m not going anywhere,” Ren swears, “I’m here, Hux, I’m here and I’m staying - I swore I would not leave you and I will not. Unless you send me away, Hux, I will be here. I will be here for as long as you’ll have me. You’re not alone. You’ve not been alone for a long while and if I have a say in it, you will never know that type of loneliness again in this life. Hux… you are not alone. I’m here.”

Hux drops his gaze to the floor, unable to maintain eye-contact with Ren. Ren is always so intense like this - he hardly knows how to be anything other than a wrecking ball. He’s about as graceful and inconspicuous as one too.

“Fine,” Hux grumbles, “Noted. May I go now?”

“Marry me, Hux.”

“ _No_ , Ren! Did you not hear a word I said?! I won’t –"

That first meeting – when Ren presses his lips against Hux’s for that very first time, all the noise stops.

The ringing stops, the pounding heart stops and there is absolutely nothing else, no sensations or sensory input other than Ren’s full lips, warm and plush against his. Everything gets soft around the edges of his peripheral sensory system. Even his head feels clouded and fogged, but it's pleasant and alarming and wrong and right and strange, new, fascinating and terrible and lovely. 

It's a lot to try to analyze at once.

Ren pulls away just as suddenly as he dove in and he looks sternly at Hux, repeating, “marry me, Hux.”

“I… I’m…”

He must gape too long, he must hesitate too long, because Ren sees fit to kiss him again and the second kiss is searing, the second kiss has Ren’s hands clenching more tightly than they ought to, tightly enough to bruise, it has Hux’s knees going weak.

“Marry me, Hux,” Ren rasps against Hux’s lips.

Hux's breaths turn shallow, his voice hardly registers as his own to his ears when it comes out.

“I… I can’t, I can’t –"

“Marry me,” and then Ren is kissing him again, tilting his head and walking Hux backwards toward the kitchen table.

When his ass hits the lip of the table, Ren picks him up by his waist and hoists him up on top of it. He doesn’t break the kiss, though. He keeps his warm, broad hands on Hux’s flanks and licks into his mouth – shamefully, Hux _moans_. It’s involuntary – he has no idea where the noise came from or how it bypassed inspection before being vocalized, but it spurs Ren on.

Encouraged, Ren breaks away long enough to pull Hux further onto the table and to then follow him there, caging him in with his ridiculously tall legs and enormous arms. His hair drapes down, curtaining them, hiding them from the galaxy in shadow and mint and wine and he kisses Hux again, once, sweetly, “marry me,” he whispers and kisses Hux again, asks two, three, four more times and then it’s just lips and tongues and teeth, gasping and groaning.

“It’s time someone made an honest man of you, Hux,” Ren murmurs with hopeful humor, his deep baritone giving Hux chills down his entire body, “Let me. Let me be that someone. Marry me, Hux.”

“I don’t… I don’t understand,” Hux confesses, his eyes feeling heavy, uniform feeling overheated and far too tight and he’s not entirely sure he’s actually comprehending any of Ren’s words anymore.

And also, maybe none of this is real.

Maybe Hux fell asleep next to Desda on her bed when he put her down for a nap and this is all a very, very bizarre dream.

“I thought of every possible excuse – I rehearsed in my head all the arguments I could make for our marriage being beneficial for you, for Desda, for the Empire, for the war’s end and it is all meaningless. Marry me. For me. For you. For us. Marry me, Aurelien.”

The flush that comes over Hux’s face feels more like a fever – without proper thinking, Hux’s arms shoot up and out, covering Ren’s mouth with both hands as if he’s uttered some terrible curse. He stares wide-eyed into Ren’s stubborn gaze and wonders what the Hells Ren is playing at.

“Kylo…” he warns.

Fascinatingly, in response to his first name, Ren’s eyes flutter shut and he nods. He nods as though Hux understands something or they’ve come to some understanding together. In response, Hux shakes his head, muttering, “I’ve no… no idea what to do…”

 _Say ‘yes,’_ Ren suggests.

“You know I don’t like it when you talk in my head,” Hux complains softly.

_You’ve covered my mouth, Hux, there’s only one other way for me to talk to you._

Reluctantly, Hux releases his hold over Ren’s lips and examines how swollen they are – so full, so red and all from just a little biting and licking. A rush of heat pools in his abdomen and he _needs_ to get away.

“When… why… if you… what would…”

Hux would be embarrassed about how horribly his vocabulary is failing him this day if he had room for anymore emotions among the jumble already existing in his chest.

“These… when did you… _feelings_?”

Looking wide-eyed for a moment, it takes a beat to register what Hux means and then Ren bends his head and laughs. His shoulders shake with it and he’s tucked his chin against his chest when he says, “wow, you really are bad at emotions.”

“I really don’t appreciate that insinuation,” Hux complains breathlessly, a whirlwind in his head.

“It’s just nice to know there are flaws to you, Hux. You have to admit, being absolutely perfect at everything - that’d be a bit boring.”

“Ren, when did you -”

“Truthfully?” Ren asks, picking his head up to look Hux in the eye again.

By just the look in Ren’s eyes, Hux knows that Ren understands what he’s been trying to ask.

The “why,” is important, the “how,” or “how could you,” seems impossible to answer altogether and while Hux would like that explanation, he doubts Ren could verbalize it. The “when,” is the easiest question to answer, Hux thinks - if any of those questions could be considered ‘easy.’

The question is some combination of “when did your feelings develop,” and “when did you realize what those feelings were?” And in a glance, Ren knows this. He understands Hux even when Hux doesn’t understand Hux.

And when did _that_ happen?

“Truthfully, it was at Starkiller’s destruction. Would you like to see?”

“Starkiller’s… wait… _see_?”

As Ren bends his head down to touch their foreheads together, he shuts his eyes and smiles sweetly, murmuring, “you’re troublingly endearing, Hux, when you’re at a loss for words.”

Without much warning other than that, Hux is in Ren’s hippocampus, watching the memories reconstruct themselves like building blocks, turning back time, rebuilding the settings, the sounds, the sights, the smells and he’s there… he’s back on Starkiller base.


End file.
